


Atelophobia

by StarkWhiteSilence



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Abel is Dead, Beating, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, PTSD, Physical Abuse, Post War, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, lack of lube, severe angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkWhiteSilence/pseuds/StarkWhiteSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atelophobia: The fear of never being good enough </p><p>Deimos always knew Cain wouldn't love him back, and in some weird twisted way that was okay with him. Even when Cain thought of Abel and only Abel, Deimos was happy to be with him, too touch him, to feel him. Even if Cain didn't feel the same way.<br/>(This is a multi-chapter Fic)</p><p>EDIT: IT HAS COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT THIS FIC IS IN DIRE NEED TO BE RE-WRITTEN IN THIRD PERSON AND A TOTAL RE-WRITE WILL BE POSTED AT A LATER DATE. UNBETA'D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atelophobia

**Author's Note:**

> HIYA! This fic is my baby and I hope you guys like it! It is about Diemos's personal struggle after the war and we get to see how it effected others. Abel is dead, and we see how Cain handles it and how it effected Deimos. This has some serious triggers so please be mindful. This was actually for the Starfighter Chellenge on tumblr so I am linking it here. To see other entries follow the tag "Starfighter Afc"! I hope you all like it and give me a Kudos and Comment for more! THANK YOU FOR READING!!!! :^) (still in desperate need of a beta)

I always told myself that I would get over it. That one day I’d wake up and think of something other than him and then I’d be okay. That I’d suddenly be able to speak out loud with someone else other than him and that I’d be able to love someone that wasn’t him. That suddenly he wouldn’t be the only thing of importance in my life and I’d move on.

Then another part of me always hoped Cain would suddenly stop his rapid fire thrusting and say three words that would have killed me and made me the happiest person on earth. The same words that would have solidified my entire being while shattering my foundation at the same time. That once during one of our sessions, he’d realize he was supposed to be with me all along and that Abel with nothing but a past fling.

I wanted to be he one to stop his crying, and be the one to comfort him when he woke up screaming. I wanted to take him to fireworks and have it be fun and not end with him in a ball, his face scrunched and wet with tears. I wanted to be that person. I wanted to be the one to make him smile again. I wanted to erase Abel form his mind completely and make him mine.

I’m laying on the floor in his living room, a thin sheet covering me from the end of my happy trail down save for my right leg that hung out in search for clear cool air. The wimpy ceiling fan spins as fast as it will go above us and the smell of the e-Cig dangling from his lips flows thickly through the smoggy room making each breath more gross than the last. And yet, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here, next to him. Even though before and after we fuck, there are never unnecessary words, I still wish he’d talk. Even is it was about things as mundane as the weather or the global updates, it’d still be nice to hear from him.

He had been surprisingly silent through this round, the usual moans and gasps of “Abel” failed to fall form his full lips. Not that I was complain in the slightest, but the silent yet rough treatment had been unnerving. I was used to the lack of preparation and foreplay, and the fact he always used a condom were facts I just got over and got used to, but the silent grunting and lack of open moans shook me more than I’d like to admit. But, knowing asking him about it was out of the question, I simply rolled onto my side to stare at the smooth skin of his hips.

“I have night watch tonight, so you need to leave soon.” He said his voice gruff and emotionless as ever. I nod and without a word stand and slip into a pair of sweatpants and a ratty old T-shirt. I’d shower when I got back to me and Phobos’s room. I knew better than to kiss him goodbye, so I simply walked to his door and slipped out quietly. I knew by now mostly everyone would have been sleeping and that fact made each of my steps lighter than the previous.  
I soon reached my room, and slipped inside. The room was dark and cold giving hint of Phobos absence. I flipped the switch and slid out of my shoes. I quickly got in the shower, the warm water getting the dried cum off of me and I had to do the awkward uncomfortable act of cleaning myself out. Deciding I was relatively clean I climbed out and grabbed a towel.

Softly padding my way to my bed I realized I haven’t seen Jules in a couple of days. I remind myself to try and find out where he was as I climb under the freezing covers. I know it will take at least an hour for me to truly sleep due to my insomnia problem. I stare at the ceiling for 10 minutes before my mind begins to wander.

I remember when we first did this, how he moaned Abel into my mouth over and over. I remember, despite how disgusting and sick it was, that I got more turned on and raised my voice in an imitation of Abel’s higher pitched voice. How I moaned Cain over and over in His voice and how Cain seemed, in that moment, to believe it. After we both came and calmed our breathing down. I remember how Cain suddenly stopped moving and stared at me like I was a dog that just took on a shit all over him.

“W-what the fuck, you're fucking sick!” The deafening crack of his knuckle on my cheekbone soon followed. The weak whimper that left my lips angered me more than the actual hit. But the words, they were what made tears well up in my eyes and spill over silently. From the expression on his face, my tears only pissed him off more. It was like slow motion, his leg slowly cocking back and slamming into my stomach. On reflex my body curls in on itself as his leg continues to wreck my body over and over, a chant of obscenities leaving his mouth.

“You’re not Him, you’re not Him, you’re not FUCKING HIM.” He growled as he gave my chest one last sharp kick. Still naked from the waste down, I had rolled over to spit the blood from my mouth. Cain had stood above me for what seemed like hours before silently turning and leaving me without a word.

How I managed to pull my bottoms back on and got my way to my barracks, I never seem to be able to recall. I remember lying in the bottom of the shower as the water poured over my body, the small scrapes from his boots stinging and making me hiss. Even as the pink tint of the water went down the drain leaving it the usual pristine clear, I stayed in. No matter how long I sat in there, I still felt filthy. The only reason I got the strength to get out of the shower was the water was so cold my finger tips and other extremities had become numb and the fact Phobos was banging on the door and screaming to hurry my fucking ass up.

But as I lay here next to him, I couldn’t ask for more. I mean, I defiantly wanted more, but if this all I can get then this is what I’ll take. If all I could get was venomous words, a rough fuck, and a beating than I take it with a smile. That’s another thing, we never snuggled. Well maybe snuggling was the wrong word. They never stayed in the same bed in a laying down position. Usually he would go until he finishes than he’d always leave me in whatever state I was in (Finished or no) and goes to take a shower. I learned that during that time I needed to do whatever I could in order to be gone by the time he got back. We never did any positions like missionary because he’d see my face and he doesn’t like that. He never kissed me and even when we pass each other in the halls of our post-war-housing, he never once talks to me.

And I never questioned it. It would make him angry, and he might choose not to fuck me anymore. It isn’t the actual act of fucking that I would miss it would the close contact. The skin on skin touching, the please sounds he makes. In the time that we are physically active, for that time only, I feel I genuinely made him happy. He never smiled, but he never cried. Usually. And honestly the only times he did cry is important days like Abel’s birthday or their anniversary. Those days were loud, rough, and hard and always left me bleeding with more bite marks than I’d like to count.

The worst day had been the anniversary of Abel’s death. I had made sure to avoid him in fear of him blowing up at me but when I returned to my room, it seemed my troubles were all for naught. There he sat basking in the cool glow of the moon, the covers on my bed ruffled with his body. His face is totally blank and he doesn’t look up when I walk in.

“Do you know what today is?” He had asked his voice impossibly soft and so fucking bleak it was gut wrenching.

“Yes.” I never spoke often, and when I did it was simple straightforward words.

Almost as if me knowing angered him even more, he stood with a growl and jabbed a finger in my direction. I could see the glimmer of tears in his eyes but I would never comment on them not now, not then.

“Don’t fucking say it with such nonchalance!” He growled. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t flinch severely at his words. Because I did.  
“I’m sorry.” And that was the truth. I was sorry. Sorry that Cain fell in love with Abel, sorry that Abel died, sorry that I was stuck pining over someone who didn’t care if I stopped breathing.

It was like my words physically stuck him. With a silent cry, he fell to his knees, two big clumps of his hair in his strong grasp pulling and yanking as his body shook with very, very silent sobs. The smart thing to do would be turn around or at least stay out of arms reach form him. Maybe I thought it would suddenly make him see my intentions or actually notice me but for some unknown reason, I had fallen to my knees in front of him, my hand on his shoulder.

It was like one moment I was kneeling there, my face impassive despite the raging emotions inside of me and the next I was on the ground, my head spinning form the impact of the concrete to my skull. I knew after my vision stopped swimming that I would be met with the angry face of the person that I love but no preparation could have save me from the face above me. It was like the face you make when you stub your toe, and you have no one and everyone to direct your anger at. Like he knew he was mad but he didn’t exactly know why.

His breathing was just as ragged as mine, and I felt something warm spreading through my hair.

This wasn’t the first time I saw him cry, and just as always I didn’t comment on it. Our relation ship was based on many unasked and unanswered questions that we both knew were there but never asked. We knew the situation and we didn’t need to be reminded of what would happen after we – he came.

“You are pathetic, you know that? I will never fucking love you and you will never replace him. You're nothing more than a little bitch I fuck my feelings into and think of Abel while doing it.” He said his voice sharp as a razor. I could cry. I could tell him to get off of me and go waste time until I’m sure he’s gone. But even though the words he growled hurt, they didn’t at the same time.

When I think about my true feelings for Cain my mind gets fuzzy and I can never finish the thought. It’s like there is this metal barrier in my mind that blocks out my feelings when I try to actually read them. So, since I never felt this before it seemed logical to label it the only emotion I had never ever encountered in my entire life.

Love.

Now my philosophy has many flaws because there are a lot of emotions that I have that I am unable to label, but I think that it is up to personal reflection/subjection. There are people whom I have very strong emotions for yet I can’t exactly put my finger on them. One is being Abel. The guy who everyone loved and adored, the one that takes all of the attention of the one person I love even in death. I think its hate, but for all I know I could be wrong. Maybe it’s vice versa, maybe I hate Cain and love Abel.

Emotional confusion can be added to the long list of my flaws I suppose.

Over the months that I and he had been doing whatever it is that we were doing, I came to realized something. Maybe it was soul-seeking bullshit, but I soon came to terms that I really did maybe have this deep underlying fear of being good enough. As I laid there on my back I tried to imagine him blinking and saying my name the way he said Abel’s and all it did was make my stomach flip in the worst not okay way.

I realized he was looking at me like he asked a question and bit my lip to keep from whimpering. As stupid that sounds, whenever he looked at me like I was scum it burned, like someone pressed one big hot iron to my entire body. I knew how this was going to end and yet I didn’t stop it. I could have blamed it on insanity, or that maybe I was just so sick in the head to try and stop it but I didn’t.

“Even though you know I think of another when I fuck you, you still lay under me whimpering like a proper whore, why? Is your brain so fucking warped that you can’t understand simple emotions like disgust, hatred and indifference?” I hope Phobos doesn’t walk in. I can’t remember if I locked to door. Hopefully he’ll be to busy studying to come home for an hour or longer.

I found out over the years that my mind wanders during mundane tasks. It isn’t that I necessarily get distracted per say because I can still do what I was doing just my body kinda takes over and allows my mind to think about more trivial things. I always thought it was a skill until I almost shot out a comrade’s ship when I began thinking about how far we could fly before running out of fuel. Phobos had been furious and hadn’t spoken to me for nearly a week until I gave him my sweets ration for the month.  
Suddenly I was lifted off the ground by my shoulders and slammed down. My vision swam as the crack of my skull hitting the concrete echoed through the room. The air in my lungs rushed out as my eyes watered in pain. I felt with cold subjectivity that something very warm began to slick the floor under my head heavier than before. The metallic sent of blood filled my nose.

When I had realized what was happening outside of the bone bowl of my head, my entire body was bare. The cold concrete seemed hot against my back causing me to hiss. His mouth latched onto my neck and sucked so hard my hips bucked up into his and a garbled moan escaped my lips. I knew without looking his eyes that his pupils were dilated to the point his iris would have been totally swallowed.

The feeling of his mouth on my body set it alight as usual. I closed off the scrambled words of my mind and simply focused on the feeling of the liquid heat pooling in my lower stomach. I could feel his hard-on through his tight casual wear, and reminded me how this goes.

“Beg for it, Deimos, I want to hear you fucking beg.” Cain said.

The only thing I could do was stare as his blue eyes bored into mine. He said my name. Of course it wasn’t the first time he said but, he never said it while we were fucking. I felt my lip begin to tremble and I knew my eyes were getting glassy. I used to cry a lot but nowadays… hardly ever did I a shed needless tears.

The sharpest pain I ever felt bloomed form where my shoulder met my neck. My scream was quickly cut off his hand over my mouth.

“So you think you don’t have to answer me?” He asked his lips and teeth stained red with my blood. I whimpered instead of saying actual words. I heard his shaky laugh as he quickly prepped me. He wasn’t exactly gentle with me, but he never skipped prep, whether it was habit or maybe he honestly didn’t want me to hurt down there, I’ll never know.

I had felt him brush my entrance as I focused on relaxing. The sound of panting fills my ears as I wrap my legs around his waist. He pushes in suddenly and my back arches of the ground. This is the part that is my favorite. The feeling of him sliding in and out, the sound of skin slapping and the feeling of his strong back muscles flexing is all I could think of.

I bit my lip to try and keep the sounds clawing my throat to a minimum. Cain began to speed up and my eyes rolled back in my head. At moments like this, when we both become mindless in each others arms, that I can pretend it’s me he’s thinking of.

I know at some point I passed out. Because when I awoke the blood had become cold and had begun to brown at the edges. It had become normal for me to have to drag myself to the shower, and wash myself. I remembered I just sat there as scolding hot water washed blood and semen down the drain. I cried silently until the water cooled and my tears had stopped flowing. I had grabbed a towel and stepped out of the steaming bathroom only to find the blood on the floor cleaned up. I felt my eyes water as a saw Phobos’s T-shirt laying on my bed folded neatly next to a pair of basketball shorts. A small note laid next to them with his scribble hand writing.

I’ll be gone tonight, so eat something and get whatever bled checked out and stitched.  
\- Phobos

I had cried again that night in his bed.

And as I lay here in my own bed, my eyes stinging I realize Phobos knows everything between me and Cain and now that I think about it, he has never brought it up once. I close my eyes and smile as I think about just how good of a friend I have.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked the first chapter! There will be more depending on your guys response. Tell me, do you think Cain is a bad guy, or are you understanding? Comment!
> 
> Check out my Homestuck Fanfiction if you enjoyed this! http://archiveofourown.org/works/3521504/chapters/7744598


End file.
